What is up, Daddy Gang? It is your founding father, Alex Cooper with Call Her Daddy. Daddy Gang, welcome back to another episode of Call Her Daddy. I am officially back in Los Angeles. I was in Paris for three weeks for the Olympics, and it was truly one of the most incredible experiences that I have had in my career. Growing up, I watched the Olympics religiously with my family. And so to have been able to be a part of such a huge global moment was indescribable. I remember being a little nervous for live TV because I'm aware I have a mouth on me. This is called Her Daddy. I know where I came from. And I understand that network television is just a little bit more buttoned up. But the moment that I felt so seen was when I was prepping my gymnastics broadcast, and I was on a pre-call going over run of show and what we were going to talk about, and a joke that I was thinking would definitely get shut down. And I remember pitching it to them. And I basically was saying, Simone Biles has multiple gymnastics moves named after her.

Coincidentally, I, too, have a move named after me, the gluck, gluck, wink, wink. And instead of them being absolutely horrified, they laughed, and they embraced it, and they approved the Gluckluck 9000 joke. And so to me, I was fucking thrilled. It made me realize, damn, maybe there is a place for Big Al on live TV. But overall, it was an incredible experience, and And I had so many guests come on the show that added to the fun watch party that I was hosting on Peacock. We had Andy Cohen popped by, Chelsea Handler, Katie Perry, Hannah Berner. It was an absolutely lovely time. But I will be honest, I haven't always had a lovely time in Paris. And when I landed and got back home and thought about what this week's episode would be, I realized that in order for me to fully embrace my new, positive, fond, incredible memories of Paris, I need to finally share the story that I have avoided telling on this show to all of you since Call Her Daddy started. I have been holding on to this story for about six years now. And trust me, I see O. G.

Daddy Gang still to this day in the comments asking, Alex, what happened in Paris? So today, Daddy Gang, I finally give you the Paris story, the infamous untold story of when I flew to Paris for a man I had never met before. And little did I know this trip would haunt me for years. Let's get into it. Let me set the scene for all of you. It was two months before I started working at Barstool. It was the summer of 2018. I was 23 years old at the time, and at this point, I was unemployed. My only source of income was unemployment checks from the government. Shout out. And I had just ended my serious on and off, again, relationship with door number three. But the positive of all of this was I had finally officially gotten accepted to the Holy Grail dating app called Raya. So I remember at this point, I sat back, I kicked my feet up, and I just started swiping. And I am swiping, and I'm swiping, and I'm perusing, I'm looking around, I'm having the time of my life, I'm looking for a sugar daddy, maybe. And all of a sudden, I remember being so caught off guard because my ex popped up on the app or So I thought.

There was a guy on Raya who quite literally looked identical to door number three, who I just ended things with. And for those of you who are like, who the fuck is door number three? He was a man I met the summer going into my senior year of college in Boston. I was bored on Instagram one day, and I remember coming across this really tall, dark, handsome, tatted guy on the Detroit Tiger's baseball team. And I double tapped a couple of his photos, thinking nothing of it. And then the next morning, I woke up and I had a DM from him, and the rest was history. This episode, though, is not going to be a story time about my relationship with Door number 3. That can maybe be for another time. But the cliff notes are that this man and I ended up having one of the realest relationships I had had up into that point in my life, and he really consumed a lot of my early 20s. And when we finally ended things, it was extremely heartbreaking. So that was my head space. That's where I'm at. So back to unemployed, heartbroken girl in New York City.

I was fresh off of that breakup, and I came across a man on Raya who looked like he could be door number 3's twin. I was immediately... I was triggered, and I was also somewhat intrigued. I was missing him already. And so I figured, in a fucked up way, why not hook I woke up with someone who looked exactly like my ex? That, to me at the time, seemed like the smartest, healthiest, most mature thing to do. So I press match, and officially, I was put into this chat with this guy, aka, Q Paris man. To confirm this man did not live in Paris, and for the purpose of trying to make sure that no one on the fucking Internet can find this man for both my own sanity and And also to make sure that I never have to hear from him again, I, during this story, I'm going to try to not give as many specifics on his job and his identity as I usually would in a story. I remember what happened in my Boston Red Sox episode. You found him, you found him. Not today, okay? The slews are like, Oh, I accept a challenge.

Please stop. Please stop. Because this is actually not... This is not what I want to see on my For You page when I upload this, you guys. So this guy was not living in Paris, but let's just say, with me living in New York at the time, it would have been a semi-short flight to see each other if we ever wanted to meet in person, hence why I matched with him in the first place. I was like, so many DJs are in Australia, and I'm like, I don't want to go on a first date to Australia. But if it's a couple hour, two hour flight, sure, I'll go see this person, right? So we started hitting it off. We're messaging on the app. He was very charming in the beginning. He was very attractive. Back then, I was really into the sleeve tattoos. And the conversation with this Raya match, it was great. It was more than easy. It honestly quickly reached the level where we were texting paragraphs back and forth over the span of a week. And we were having really, really deep, what felt like fulfilling emotional conversations. And a lot of it was us texting because he was on a plane every other day traveling around the world for work, okay?

And I know what you're thinking. Traveling on a plane across the world for work? Alex, you hit the gold mine, sweetie. Who is this very powerful, very mysterious, influential a well-connected, suave, worldly man? Yes, I, too, thought the same exact thing, okay? So one morning we're texting, and he says, Hey, I know we barely know each other, but But in the short time that we've been speaking, I have never felt this way about someone, and I've never connected like this with someone. I understand it's already a red flag, like you have never met in person, and he's basically proposing. I know. But at the time, I was vulnerable. So he basically said, I know this is really sudden, but I have to ask, I'm going to be in Paris next week. Do you want to join me? Now, you could picture the excitement in young, dumb, broke, lonely Alex. I had never been to Paris in my entire life. I had never even had a man bring me to Europe. And so the prospect of living this whirlwind, fairytale romance seemed nothing short of epic. And what was the most exciting, and where my head really went to, was he was not an athlete, okay?

I was aware that I needed to switch it up, and I It was no secret. I had been going for the same type of guy since I came out of the fucking womb. I needed a restart. I needed a fresh change of pace. And he, on paper and texting, seemed like literally the perfect guy. He looked like an athlete, but he wasn't an athlete, okay? And so I remember him inviting me, and I was living in the 301 at the time, which was my first New York City apartment in the Lower East Side. And I remember I ran into our living room and I started freaking out I'm asking my roommates, what do I do? What do I do? This is fucking insane, right? I'm literally insane. If I get on a plane and go see a man that I've never met in my life, I'm okay. Am I okay? I'm not okay. Am I unwell? And both of my roommates were like, Alex, Yolo. Like, literally Yolo. Go for it. Why not? You are going to start working a full-time job in a month and a half. Go have fun. Live your life. You never know what could happen.

And so I said, I said, Thank you for that pep talk. And I said, Fuck it. And I texted him and I said, I'm down. Let's do it. I'm coming to Paris. Now, I was no stranger at this point to getting on a plane and flying to see a man who I was talking to. But the funny thing is, and this is where the whole athlete thing, I know this sounds backwards, but it was broadly comforting when I would get on a plane to see an athlete, because every time I was on one of those planes, going to spend a weekend, even if it was an athlete I had never met in my life and was maybe just starting to talk to, their whole team and organization and coaches and wives and girlfriends and family members and fucking dogs and everyone and their mother is staying at the hotel that we're at. So in hindsight, maybe it was a false sense of security, but it did always make me feel somewhat safe that I was theoretically surrounded by an entire group of people, and I was not just out there fending for myself alone. So this, without a doubt, was the first man that I was essentially getting on a plane for and going in blind.

There was not really much about him on the Internet, and I personally at the time, took that as like, Oh my God, he's so rich. He doesn't want any information out there about him. Idiot. Idiot. I get that we're like, oh, no, social media is so sexy and hot. To a point, to a point, to a point. Also, he was on Raya to clear my name of I'm not that much of an idiot. He was on Raya, which is a dating site that you have to get referrals. And back then, it was a little bit more stingy with its acceptance rate, hence why it took me so long to get the fuck on there. But so I had this riot thing. I'm like, he can't be a murderer. I'm fine. And I think another reason that I blacked out and said yes to flying across the world for a man that I didn't know was because I had been vlogging on YouTube. And in order to make my rent every month because the unemployment checks weren't cutting it, I needed that little extra cash flow from the vlogs. And for context, my vlogs were essentially a precursor to Call Her Daddy.

I was exploiting my life and taking you on a journey of whatever I was doing that week. Sometimes it was a skit, sometimes it was reality, whatever it was, it was me being embarrassing and exploiting myself. Classic. So I wasn't just being this Yolo idiot, like, maybe I'll die, maybe I'll thrive. I wasn't doing that. I also had in the back of my head, this will be pretty great for the vlog. This is good for business. And do it for the plot. Unfortunately, I do think I took do it for the plot just a little too far on this one, but we'll get there. So I confirm with Paris Man that I'm in. He tells me he's going to purchase my flight and that everything would be taken care of. And all I had to do was get on the plane and show up. I was elated. I remember my mom came into the city to go shopping with me to get like new cute Parisian outfits. We went to like TJ Max and we got me like a new luggage bag. I have a fucking picture of me. I'll post on the side outside of my 301 apartment in Lower East Side, like holding my blog camera.

It's so embarrassing. I'm holding my blog camera and I'm sitting with my little luggage bag. I think it was like Tommy Hilfiger or something. And I was so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and excited because in my mind, I was about to get on a plane to meet the potential love of my life. I am done with the athletes. Maybe this could even be the guy that I don't know One day I'm married. It was all getting hyped up in my head. So I'm sitting on the flight to Paris, and I remember my stomach was filled with butterflies, and time couldn't have gone by slower. All I wanted to do was run into Paris man's arms and start my fairytale adventure. The plane finally arrived, and I immediately went to text him when I landed. I'm like, I'm here, babe. We made it. And minutes went by, and there was no response. So I restarted my phone, trying to make sure, oh, maybe it's a little issue with my service. My dad hasn't paid my bills. Something's going on. Maybe my texts weren't sending, and that's why he's not answering. Something's going So I go through customs.

I get my checked bags, and almost an hour had passed, and I still had not heard from Paris man. I also realized, like a fucking moron that I didn't have the address to where he was staying. So you can imagine my excitement and butterflies that I had were now completely gone, and I was At this point, I was edging more towards freaking the fuck out. I was alone in a country. I was 23. I had never been to this country. And the realization was starting to hit me that I had no idea who I was meeting up with. The guy I had been talking to was thoughtful and communicative, not the type of person who would leave you in the dark for over an hour after you fly across the world to see him. So I remember I'm sitting at Bagage Claim, and I start to have a visible panic attack. People are looking at me, and I look extremely unwell. And in that moment, I was so upset. I remember I wanted to text my mom and my friends, but I didn't. And I think it was because I was also embarrassed to admit anything was wrong this early in the trip.

You know what I mean? I didn't want to tell them, Oh, my God, he's not answering me. What the fuck? What a dick. And then everything works out and it's fine. And then I look like an idiot for freaking out. So I was just trying to stay calm and just maintain a level of calmness through my panic attack. I was sure there was going to be an explanation. And so naturally, as I'm sitting there, I decide to get my ass up and I start to walk around looking at the signs drivers were holding up, thinking, Oh, idiot. Obviously, he definitely got me a car. I just have to go find the driver that's going to be holding up my sign. Maybe Maybe the Paris man is stuck on a business call. That's why he's not answering me. This is all going to be fine. So I'm walking around like a fucking idiot, huffing and puffing. I'm literally about to cry, and I don't see any signs with my name on it. And I start to rationalize with myself at this point. When you're so delusional, it's like, oh, I can make anything make sense in this moment.

And I start to stare at the names of all of the fucking drivers holding up names that somewhat resemble mine. I'm like, oh, maybe he accidentally told them my name was Allison. And it was a little mix up. And maybe that's my driver. I'm definitely Allison. And I go up to the guy and he's like, you're not Allison. I'm looking for any name. I'm like, Copper, Cooper. Oh, let's go. Slowly, Allison and Copper and all the people that resembled my name fucking appeared, and they went off with their driver, and I was still stranded in the motherfucking Paris airport. So I went and sat in the corner of Bagage Claim on top of my suitcase, and I started to cry. And I just felt... Can you guys imagine getting on a plane that was, I think it was, what, 10 hours flight, and I'm landing, and I'm so excited, and now it's literally like cue the horror music. I just felt so off and had this pit growing in my stomach, and my mind was going in a million different directions. But then, by the grace of God, I got a fucking text message from him.

And all it said was, Hey. And he sent me the address. Immediately, I'm relieved and simultaneously horrified. Obviously, I'm happy that I'm no longer stranded in the airport, and this man has communicated with me. But I'm also starting to worry that this was not about to be the week that I thought it was. So I brought my bags outside, and I got in the cab line, and I waited for a taxi, and I still had this pit in my stomach that I was honestly trying to ignore. And there was a smallest voice in the back of my head telling me to not leave the airport. Call your parents, Alex, beg them to buy you a flight, and go the fuck home. What are you doing? But I'd already started the vlog. I was dedicated to the vlog. I was like, no, no, no. I was convinced that things would turn around when we just got in person with each other. And I convinced myself that this mishap at the airport, water under the bridge, it's fine. I didn't need to overthink it. I didn't need to worry. Everything was going to be fine. As I remember, so sad, the taxi is driving me and I'm watching the meter tick up.

The price just keeps getting higher and higher and higher. And I'm hoping to God that when I get there, Parisman would cover the cab ride because I'm like, listen, baby, I'm on unemployment checks. I got no money to my name. I need help right now. And I'll be honest. I thought he was... I either thought he was going to surprise me and pick me up at the airport with flowers, or I thought he'd at least get me a car. You know what I mean? So anyways, that didn't happen. So the taxi finally pulled up to the address that he gave me. The driver helps me with my bags, and I'm standing on the side of the road, and I text him that I was there, and I'm waiting, and I'm waiting, and I'm waiting, and I'm outside for 10 fucking minutes. The cab is gone by now. And finally, these double doors open, and I see him in person in the flesh for the first time. These double doors open, and I see him in person, in the flesh for the first time. Now, a part of me was just really fucking relieved that there was a human being standing in front of me because I will be real, in that cab right over, I really started to question, was I the idiot that was about to get catfish?

And this man actually didn't really fucking exist. There was, I will say, though, an actual element of catfishing here because this man was not... How do I say this? This man was not completely what his photos were. Not that it was a full catfish situation by any means. He was an average-looking guy, but he honestly was not the man who I personally swiped on and flew across the world to see. He was not giving adjacent to the model-esque photos that were on that app. You know what I mean? So that was a little shocking. But I'm like, oh, I'm tired. I'm a little hazy from the trip. Maybe it's going to get better with time. He walks out and he hugs me. And it's this awkward one-arm side hug. And it's like, he barely is talking, and he is barely saying anything. And I'm not an awkward person. If anything, I'm an annoying person, but I am not an awkward person. So I immediately start to panic even more. I'm like, why is he being so awkward? We've basically sexted. Why is this weird? And you're giving me one-hour hug. And to make things worse, he didn't pay for the cab.

He just waved at the guy, and I was like, here's my last morsel of cash that I have from underneath my bunk. But I smiled through it, and he offered to take my bags up for me, and he carried them up four flights of stairs to this Airbnb that we were staying in. So here we go. It just keeps getting fucking worse. We walk in, and he showed me to our bedroom, okay? And it was just a mattress on the ground with red sheets and just a lamp in the corner. Not a a floor lamp, just a lamp on the ground, on the floor, and nothing else in the room. Oh, and there was a standing fan in the corner because there was no AC. Now, again, I'm broke at this point, so I'm not not going a budget trip. I'm like, I get it. But this was far from the vision that I had built up in my head of a romantic Parisian vacation. And it's not the vision he pitched me. You know what I mean? So I sat my stuff down and I I asked him where the bathroom was so I could pee and throw up.

And he pointed me down the hall. I rushed down the hall. I go to open the door, and it's locked. And I'm a little confused. I'm like, oh, this place is a little old. It's a little janky. Maybe it's jammed. And I'm trying to nudge in. I'm like, just give it a little kick. And I then hear someone say, one second Second, please. I heard a flush. The door opened, and there was a man with long blonde hair just staring down at me. And my mind immediately started to fucking explode. I'm like, who is this human being? Is this a set up? Does this man think I'm about to have a threesome with him on that nasty ass mattress with those red sheets? How many threesoms have they had before I got here? Am I about to get kidnapped? All of this was starting to feel so fucking off, okay? And then the man from the bathroom put out his hand and he said, Hey, Alex, nice to meet you. I'm You're a roommate for the week. He proceeded to walk past me and said, Oh, by the way, you got to hold the phone.

He said, Oh, by the way, you got to hold the flusher down for 10 seconds, otherwise it clogs. I'm in hell. I'm in literal hell. I just gave him a big thumbs up, and I sprint into this little fucking bathroom. I lock myself in, and I just start ugly, silent, crying and staring at myself in the mirror. Like, what have you fucking done? You fucking idiot. I honestly remember, picture yourself again, two men you've never met in your life. I'm in the middle of Paris in this weird fucking apartment, and I started to feel so overwhelmed and claustrophobic. I had just flown across the world, and the initial decision seemed so fun and adventurous and exciting. But I started to freak the fuck out because I was starting to rationally think now that I was physically put, now that I was physically here, and I'm holding down the flasher for 10 seconds. I was like, Oh, I fucked up. And I was so fucking mad at myself that I put myself in this situation. And again, I want to clarify. So far, nothing horrible had happened. But these little moments being stranded in the airport for over two hours, getting here not having the warmest welcome, and then also not knowing that we have a roommate for the week.

I just felt... I remember feeling so alone and anxious, and I just wanted to go home, and I hadn't even been with this person for 20 minutes, and I was about to have to spend a week with him. Yes, I was there for a week, okay? So over the next 24 hours, we quickly learned how incompatible we were. He was becoming very snappy with me, and I could tell he was just overall very annoyed by my presence. All of the plans that we had discussed together over the phone, he no longer had any interest in. And it was just like, you know when you're like, oh, it's And neither of us, I'm assuming, are bad. Well, I can speak for myself. I'm not a bad person, okay? But he was giving like, we just hated each other, and we weren't saying it, and we were trying to be cordial moments. But I would do things, and he would be so snappy at me or if I wanted a specific food, he'd be like, why do you... Oh, you eat that? And I'm like, it's a French onion soup. It's not that. It just every little tiny morsel of something was a problem to him about me.

And I remember it was our our second night there. And we were drinking, and all of my friends were texting me asking, how is it? How is it? Oh, my God, is it everything you dreamed? Are you in love? I have my mom texting me asking for updates, and I felt horrible. I didn't know how to tell anyone what was going on, and so I didn't say anything. And again, this is only now we're 24 hours in. And after multiple glasses of wine, I, like an idiot thought, maybe if we physically connect, it will bring us closer together. And we will go back to the way that we were before I got here, the way that we were texting and connecting. Because up until this point now, the second night of sleeping there, we had not kissed. He literally wouldn't touch me. The first night that we went to sleep on that mattress, he turned over and wouldn't even really look at me. I don't I don't know why. I don't know what happened. I don't know. Maybe I showed up and he was like, Oh, she's not as hot in person, or he hated me.

I don't know. I don't know if it was my person. I don't know what it was. But I naturally felt so fucking insecure, and I was like, What the fuck is happening? So That second night with some liquid courage, I went for it. I was like, there is no way I'm not going to make out with this person. We need to see if there's anything there. I didn't come to Paris to bunk up with two dudes and be Let's give it a go. Maybe if we physically connect, all of a sudden it will be less awkward. And I'm not going to lie, when I look back, there inevitably was a tiny thing in the back of my head wondering, is he being mean and annoyed with me because I haven't physically connected with him yet? You know what I mean? And so you're like, maybe he's grumpy and annoyed, and I need to make the initiative. I don't know. I was all over the place. One awkward thing led to another, and we had sex, and it was awful. I remember honestly, blacking it out. The minute that we kissed, I knew this was not the right situation.

But I kept going with it because, again, I don't know. I have to be with this man and sleep next to him every night for a week. I wanted it to get better. I was very hopeful, but I couldn't control my emotions about how I was feeling. And so in the middle of sex, I started crying. And at first, we were in Missionary, he didn't say anything. And I'm crying. And he just kept having sex with me. And eventually, he asked me why I was crying. And I lied, and I said, it was just from the wine. I'm okay. I get emotional on wine. It's totally fine. And we finish having sex, and he ended up passing out immediately after we had sex. And I went into the bathroom and I cried for hours. I just felt so bad and off and not myself. And I was so upset that I had sex with him thinking that I was going to solve fucking anything. And I felt weird and uncomfortable. Not that anything was non-consensual that was happening. I had instigated it and I wanted it to work, but I just made everything worse in my head because now I felt more homesick, and I was only 48 hours into this trip, and it was just becoming a nightmare, and I just wanted to leave, and I did not know what to do.

And so now, I know all of you at home watching this or listening are wondering, why the fuck didn't I just go home? And I still, to this day, can't fully articulate why I didn't leave, which, sadly, I think is so fucking relatable for women. Why didn't you leave? You were uncomfortable. What did you think was going to change? Why did you stay? I think as backwards as it sounds, because of how uncomfortable and awkward it was with this person, I didn't know what to do other than stay and suck it up. I didn't want to make the other person feel more uncomfortable, so I tried to appease the situation and make it better because staying and being miserable somehow felt easier than pissing someone off and getting in this fight and leaving and acknowledging how awkward it was. And since he wasn't saying anything, I was not going to say anything. I don't know. Maybe only women will understand that. But it is confusing, and yet it's not confusing at all. I feel like we've all been there where we're like, I didn't really want to do that, or I wasn't really into it, but then I did it because...

And it's like, why did you do it? And you're like, I don't know. I didn't know how to get myself out of the situation. And I'm in an apartment with these two men, and he had already been being snappy. It was It was a bad situation. After that night, we never physically connected again. And I made up a bunch of excuses and lied that I was feeling sick and all this random shit. And the rest of the trip was fucking miserable. And he would argue with me. He made me feel stupid for wanting to go sightsee and explore. He was very hot and cold with me, and somehow I ended up paying for fucking everything. And I actually... And I know the money, I don't want to harp on too much, but again, I was so fucking broke, and this trip was proposed to me. Everything would be taken care of, and not in a sugar daddy way, but just like a... I didn't have a fucking job, and I made that very clear to him. On top of that, I actually ended up being so fucking happy towards the end of this trip that the roommate was there, so I didn't have to be alone with him.

Almost every single dinner or anything we all ended up doing together, we would bring him. And it was just an unsaid thing. I invited him every single time, but it was like, oh, what time are we all leaving? And it was I just wanted him there. Also, a good buffer ended up being my vlog. I use that as an excuse to leave and go do my own thing in moments. So that helped ease moments where I was wanting to get out and go and be alone. But overall, the remainder of the week was hell. And when it was time to leave for the airport, he called us in Uber. I will never forget this moment. He called us an Uber, and I did not want to go with him. But he was like, Our flights are literally 15 minutes apart. We should just drive together. And again, he's still not acknowledging that this has been hell. He's just being weird as fuck to me and rude. And I did not want to upset him. So I just played the game and played it out for the whole week, and I was just waiting to get home.

So we're on the highway, and we are in this Uber, and we've been sitting in silence for the entire trip. And he turns to me and he goes, You need to Venmo me for half of this ride. And I look at him in shock because, again, up until this point, I have been paying for everything. I paid for this motherfucker's crepes. I paid to get into the Louver. And I literally say, Are you kidding me? And he goes, No. So I Venmoed him for the whole fucking trip. I paid for the entire car ride, and my bank account was officially completely overdrawn because in my head, I was like, Fuck you. It was almost like a pride that I was like, at this point, I've spent so much fucking money on this trip. I don't even know what I'm going to do when I get back to the United States, but I want to take fucking nothing from you, and I want to never see you again. So we pulled up to the... I didn't say any of that. That was in my head. I was like, Okay, Venmo. Like, literally like a little bitch.

Just like, Here you go. He tells the driver to drop him off first. And I was like, Wait, my terminal is A and yours is C. The car is going to pass A. I should just get out before you. Please drop me off first. And he argued with me, and it was like, no. And the driver, thank fucking God, rolled his eyes. I could see him in the rear view mirror, roll his eyes, and he just let me go first. I'm like, What is wrong with you? You're this miserable human being. I want to get the fuck out of here. And when I pulled up to the terminal, I got out. He didn't say bye. He didn't help me with my bags. Nothing. He said nothing. And I walked away hoping to never see or hear from this man again. Unfortunately, little did I know that I would be reminded of this guy for the next five years of my life. Because. So I'm back in New York City, and I had started to forget about Paris Man, and just really wanted to put that trip behind me. And I was starting to get really excited about starting at Barstool in a couple of weeks, and I was feeling in a better place in life.

And I remember one night, I was sitting in my bedroom And I got a call from my women's health center. And my doctor told me that my results came back in from my recent yearly exam. And lo and behold, I had an STD. I had contracted HPV. I immediately felt sick to my stomach because Because I knew who I got it from. I knew it was him. I hadn't slept with anyone else since him. And I broke into tears. I was so emotional that out of all of the sexual experiences in my life and all of the people, him, he was the one to give me a fucking STD. You've got to be fucking kidding me. And my whole experience was bad enough. And the cherry on top was that I got a fucking STD from this man. I was mortified. I had tried to put this guy behind me, and now I was dealing with this. And so I reached out to him, And he confirmed that his ex-girlfriend did, in fact, have HPV. And he proceeded to tell me that the strand that she had was one of the kinds that the vaccine does not protect you from.

And I remember when he told me, the entire room started spitting, and I felt like I was going to fucking vomit, and I just started hysterically crying. I felt so hurt, and embarrassed, and disgusted, and And on top of all of that, I had told my friends and my mom that I had never slept with this man. And when I look back as to why I didn't tell my friends, because historically, with anything sexual or emotional or anything, I've always felt very comfortable talking to my friends about those type of topics, even if it was a disaster. But I think it was genuinely only more for me so that I could try to forget it ever happened and just wipe my hands clean and dissociate from that experience and not telling my friends was me... It was me being able to act like it wasn't real, like it never happened. And so, like an idiot, I ignored the diagnosis, and I felt so paralyzed by the information that he gave me about his ex that I basically just accepted that I was going to have this for the rest of my life, and I was screwed, and I fucked myself.

And I know this sounds really fucked up, but I also just couldn't help but be so annoyed that I got this from someone, not only who I didn't love, but someone I actually despised. I know that sounds weird, but it's like, if you're in this romantic thing and you get it from someone you love, I don't know. I don't know. It just made it even worse. And so every single pap smear for the next four years came back HPV positive. And every year I got the call and read the test results online, I was brought back to that trip and that experience and that memory. And so fast forward, I moved to Los Angeles, and I go to a new clinic, and I get a new doctor, and I did my yearly. And she asked me how long I've had HPV. And I say about four years now. And she said, I really recommend that you get a colapsuppy. Now, for those of you who don't know what a colapscapie is, I hope you never have to get one. But I will tell you, when you have a PAP smear that comes back irregular multiple times.

They recommend this procedure where they essentially biops a little part of your cervix so that they can examine it in the lab and see if further steps need to be taken. So I went in for this procedure. I still hadn't told my mom or any of my friends. And most importantly, I hadn't told Matt. At this point, Matt and I were starting to get serious, and we were dating. And for the first time, it just sucked because I could really envision a future with a man. And so I had just posed it like I was going for a normal checkup to my friends and my mom and Matt and everything. But I was so fucking emotional going through all of this alone, because I think at that point, I really wanted to tell people. I really, really did But I feel like people will understand this. I had been keeping it to myself for so fucking long. I didn't even know how to talk about it. I didn't even know how to bring it up. I didn't want to relive and tell the Paris story and then have to be like, I did lie. I actually had sex with him.

And I think I was just scared to vocalize one of my biggest fears, which was the possibility that this mistake I made years ago was going to impact my fertility. And I was extremely emotional because Matt was the first person I had dated that had me realize I even wanted to have kids. I, for a while, growing up, really doubted if I wanted to I want to have children. And Matt was the first person that I was like, oh, my God, without a doubt, I want to have children with this man. So a week and a half later, my test results came back from the colapsuapy, and my doctor called me and told me that she was concerned about the HPV. She said she would recommend that I get a LEAP procedure. So I immediately googled it, and I'm trying to understand what is a LEAP procedure, how invasive is it, will I have downtime? I just went down a spiral mentally and emotionally, and I just started to break down. And I was also just so exhausted from carrying this information by myself for so long, and also because of the experience that I associated with it.

So I remember I got to a breaking point when I knew I needed to go in for this leap procedure that I finally told Lauren, and I just told her everything. We were having wine one night, and I had my second glass, and I just fucking started bawling. And I told her everything. I told her about Paris. I told her how scared I was. I told her I didn't know what to do. I was terrified about this procedure that I couldn't fully understand. And I was reading online And so many people are saying, I'll be fine. Then there are so many people that say it's super painful and traumatizing. I was just very confused. And most importantly, I was freaking out because all I wanted to do was tell Matt. But I was afraid of how he would react. This was a new relationship, and we had just started dating, and it's awkward to be like, Yeah, I have an STD, and you should go get checked. And we were starting to get more serious. So I was like, This is not what I want to do, and not what I want to bring up.

But I knew I was going to have to be honest about it. So I scheduled my leap procedure, and that night I told Matt. We were having dinner at his house, and I remember I was so nervous. I went to the bathroom 10 times, looking myself in the mirror, practicing. When you're doing that, though, when you're like, I need to... I'm randomly bringing this thing up. What's the good in? What's a good time? When he's cleaning the dishes or when we're on the couch again, I didn't know. And so I was just embarrassed. And I told him, Matt, I'm really embarrassed, but I need to be honest with you, and I want to tell you something. And I told him everything. And he couldn't have been more loving, and understanding, and supportive. That's note to self, you guys. Half the time we think that someone's going to judge us. It's like, they're actually going to be like, okay, I'm here for you. Love you. And I'm like, oh, fuck. And he had actually told me that he had gone for his yearly stuff, and he didn't have anything. So I immediately felt better. I was like, oh, my God, thank God, I didn't spread this to you.

So when the day of my leap procedure came around, he drove me to my appointment, came with me, sat with me, held my hand while I I filled out my paperwork. And the doctor came over, and because of COVID restrictions, unfortunately, those restrictions were still in place when we were dating. And they said, unless he's your husband, he can't come into the room. And so I went in alone, And I was scared. And I want to normalize that for women because doctors speak to you so matter of factly and directly. And unless you're one of the lucky ones who finds a doctor who has some warmth and empathy, it is so So fucking scary. And unfortunately for this procedure, I didn't have one of those doctors at the time. And so I got undressed, and I put on the robe thing, and I got on the procedure table, and the doctor handed me essential oil to hold and to smell. And she said verbatim, You may want to hold these up to your nose during the procedure because it's going to smell like flesh is burning off. I love doctors, but some it's like, what the fuck?

So I immediately start freaking out. I have a really bad... I don't have a good pain tolerance. Obviously, now I'm 10 times more scared when she says this to me. I'm like, oh, my fucking God. And for 20 to 30 minutes, I laid on the table and I sobbed. And the sound is like a It sounds like they're saw. It smells like there, and the sound is like they're sawing off your skin, a piece of you inside. And I remember just laying there, and all of the emotions were going through my mind. I was just so mad at myself. Why did you have sex with this person? Look at what you're having to now do to your body. It was awful, and I just sobbed. I literally was laying there and just tears were rolling down my face, and the noise was It was so fucking loud. It was just awful. It was awful. And I remember they basically gave me a diaper to wear home because I was bleeding, and they said that I would bleed for the next couple of days. And I remember walking out and seeing Matt standing in the waiting room, and he was like...

It was so cute. He was waiting, and he knew how nervous I was. And he came over, and he hugged me, and I just fell into his arms. So the goal of the LEAP procedure was to take off a layer of my cervix and hope that the next time that I got a PAP smear, it wouldn't come back abnormal because all the pre-cancerous the cells would have been removed. So I had to wait six months after this procedure to know if it worked. And I remember I went in for my PAP smear six months later, and I was trying to not I would never think it, but obviously was hoping that it would come back normal, and I could put this behind me, but also had had conversations with Matt about just like, what if I still have it? And I will say, you know you have the right partner, ladies, when they don't give a fuck, and they are just there to support you and love you, and it doesn't matter, because Matt was so loving and was like, I love you. I already know you're the love of my life. I want to marry you one day.

I'm here. We are going to figure this out. And it made me feel so much better in the waiting process, knowing that he didn't think less of me or whatever. I know. Seds have a connotation. And So I remember where I was sitting. I was sitting. I just pulled into my driveway, and I'm sitting in my car, and I got a call from my doctor. And I answer the phone. I'm shaking. I'm just waiting and praying. And I fucking hate when doctors do that. They're like, Hi, Alex. How are you? And I'm like, I'm fucking good. Tell me, tell me, tell me. And they're like, So we got your results. I'm like, I know. Hurry up. And She said, Alex, I want to share with you, you are HPV free. And I remember I just started crying. The whole episode, I'm just like, I've been crying through all of this, but it's emotional. It's fucking terrifying. I feel like growing up, I really didn't have an understanding of fertility and my body. I don't know. I just feel like I didn't Maybe I didn't pay attention enough in health class, but I feel like they didn't cover this enough.

I'm like, I've never really learned about this. And so there's all... Half of the fear is the unknown. I don't know what... Of course, I researched HPV and I researched all this stuff, but There's also just the unknown. And so I remember when I got this news from my doctor, I just started sobbing tears of happiness, but also sadness of how long this journey was, and how long I kept it to myself, and how long I struggled with this, and I was just so fucking relieved. But also, I don't know. It was a very weird time. I bet this wasn't the story that you expected after all the years. I'm sure you thought it was about to be dick hopping through Paris and doing cartwheels on the dick and craziness. But I wanted to share this story with you guys for so many reasons. First of all, I have made so many dumb and naive decisions in my life, and I will continue to make mistakes in my life. But something I know I will never do again, or at least try not to do again, is carry the burden of a difficult time alone.

And I want to emphasize this to every single person listening to this podcast right now. If you are struggling with something, please, for the love of God, do not struggle alone. And I want to speak directly to, specifically, my single girls, because when I look back at that time in my life, when you are single as a woman, there is a beautiful pride and independence that you hopefully will form And you get very, very, very scary, sometimes good, at relying on yourself. And while all these things are what I want for you, and I was so proud and I'm proud, of myself for being confident and secure with myself in those moments and being like, I can handle this on my own. It doesn't make you weak to ask for help. When I was thinking about telling this story, it just made me realize, and even sitting here and talking about it, it's like, I'm realizing we're so hard on ourselves, and it's almost impossible in moments to zoom out and see the big picture when you are in the thick of a really difficult situation that is putting pressure on you emotionally and maybe even physically.

And so the moment you tell someone who you trust in your life, you are immediately opening yourself up for someone to carry the burden with you. I remember when I told Lauren, I literally felt so much fucking better. This is also it. I know Lauren cannot take it away for me. I know if this is going to affect me or my fertility or if I'm going to get cancer from this, that's on me. But having a fucking loving human being there to emotionally hold space for me helped me so fucking much. When I think back to going into the colapsuapy by myself, it makes me so fucking sad because I didn't want to do that alone. Any one of my girlfriends would have been there for me. They would have gotten on a plane for me, would have laid in bed with me, and watched a movie after movie after movie with me. They would have checked in on me. They would have taken care of me. But for some reason, I didn't allow anyone to support me. And I think a big part of that was shame. As women, the word and the concept and the feeling of shame, it's literally in everything we do all day, every day.

It is ever present, right? Maybe as you get older, it gets a little better, but I don't really think, really, it just maybe looks a little bit different, or you know how to handle it a little bit differently, but it's still there. And so I just want to say to my younger self and to every woman watching and listening, that we need to give ourselves more grace. There was no reason for me to sit for years and beat myself up. I was having a goddamn near panic attack every time I went to the gyno for years. I was storing so much fucking stress in my body. And yes, while I was anxious about the HPV, when I look back, more of the anxiety was really coming from the shame I felt of sleeping with this person. The shame of maybe I did deserve this. Trust me, that went through my head. You felt so uncomfortable, why did you sleep with him? This is your fault. You should have known better. Of course, a random guy is going to give you a fucking STD, Alex. It makes me so sad that my head went there. But we do get so down on ourselves as women, especially when it involves anything sexual.

And it's not lost on me. I know there are some dense people that will see a clip of this episode on TikTok, and the comments will say, Oh, she's just a ran-through whore. Why did you sleep with him? Use a condom next time. First of all, you fucking idiots, a condom can fucking break. How many women have had that? Where they're like, Oh, it broke. Yeah. I just wish people would acknowledge and start to listen and accept the extremely complicated sexual experiences that women go through, period. And that's why I'm also telling the story today. It's not lost on me that there will be articles of Alex Cooper, HPV. But if I don't talk about this, I know there's so many of you sitting at home that are freaking out with something that you have or something going on, or there's someone that is treating you wrong, or there's something you can't get out of and you don't want to speak up. Sometimes There's power imbalances. Sometimes you're scared and you don't know how to get yourself out of the situation. Sometimes you're just hoping maybe this is what will get the guy to actually like you.

There's so much shit that goes through our heads. And why do we feel like disgusting whores when men hear that we have a past? Why is it okay for men to have a body count of 100? But if you have more than 10, it's like, whoa, she's so easy. Why is it okay for men to be like, Oh, they're just getting it out of their system. They're just like, They need to get out of their system. But women need to have a perfect fucking track record. It's infuriating. Why are women so judged viscerally when we get an STD? News flash, I didn't get I got it from God. I got it from a man. I got it from the penis that went inside of me. It takes two. A man had to have had an STD for me to get it, but I'm the whore, but it's on me. It's not fair. It's not fair how we treat women versus men in this category, and I know it's never been. And I know that this is not a revolutionary statement, but it is important to acknowledge the fallout of what this does to women. I'm sitting here, and I would consider myself a pretty confident, outspoken woman.

I feel very fortunate. The household that I was raised in, my mother was very, very, very focused on making sure my siblings and I would speak up for ourselves. I feel like I had the best chance that I could to be someone that speaks up in these moments. And then you're fucking in them, and you fucking don't. It's every woman that is getting sexually harassed in the workplace. And it's like, well, why didn't you say something? And it's like, because he's going to get angry, because I'm going to lose my job? There's so many complexities. And I realized as I was telling this story today, it's important to talk about shame. As corny as it sounds, it's not fucking corny. This is our lived experiences, ladies. Like, shame can fucking ripple effect into not feeling confident or safe enough to speak up, not feeling comfortable to leave a situation, not feeling secure and doubting yourself. And I know that these feelings that I am describing are experienced by women in a variety of situations and severity, right? My situation today could be child's play to what you're going through, or someone could be experiencing something that you could say is not as intense as my situation.

Regardless, you're fucking going through it. We have all experienced this concept in some shape or form. Sorry. Welcome to my TED Talk. I'm getting angry. But it is upsetting, and it's a really hard unsaid thing that women have to go through of this shame and this... I even watch it on reality television shows, the women getting held to a different standard than the men. And it's like, what is this? It's just... I don't know. Well, Today is my birthday. Happy birthday, Alex. I turned 30 years old today, and I feel proud of the work that I've put in to get to a place where I can reflect on my past without judgment and feel comfortable to put this out to millions of people. And I'm proud of the passion that I have for my younger self, and I still know I have work to do and room to grow in that department. I still trust me roll my eyes and wonder why I did certain things. But I feel so much more in control of my life and my ability to speak up for myself. And I know that every single woman watching Call Her Daddy is capable of the same exact thing.

What I realized more and more as I've grown up is that as complicated as it is, being a woman is beautiful and it is fulfilling, and we have so much power, but sometimes it doesn't fucking feel like it. And I think in order to fully lean in and embrace being a woman and embrace that power, something I've been thinking a lot about recently, and again, I am not fucking perfect, and sorry to go on this rant, but I have just been seeing so much shit recently in people's comments, and TikTok is a scary place. But Women need to fucking rally together more often, and around each other, and support each other, and not tear each other down. We all fucking see it. I just said it. A man can do the same fucking thing as a woman, and a woman is going to get so much more fucking hate. And the problem is, you go on the Internet and you look at people's comment sections, it's other women. Women are tearing other women down. They're like, Oh, you're this. Oh, you're this. You rarely see a man in the comments being like, Oh, my gosh.

You are blah, blah, blah. It makes me so sad because we've all been conditioned to look at each other so judgmentally and critically and competitively, instead of just supporting and knowing we're always going to be the fucking underdogs. So let's Try to fucking help each other and find a positive. So going into my 30s, I have not been perfect. I have not always been like, Oh, women, I'm I love you. Of course, there are moments that I found myself either shit talking or dragging or just making a dumb fucking decision that now I look back and I'm like, why did I do that? But I do think that this next decade of my life, and this is why I love having a podcast, because half of me saying this is just for me to put this in a document somewhere and remember it for myself. But I want to dedicate myself to supporting women in a more active way, because if we actually want change and progress, and we want to be treated more equally, and we want to see women win and thrive, it starts with us treating ourselves that way, treating other women that way.

Because it's dawned on me recently, now that I'm entering my 30s, that we're the next generation to raise children. And if I have a daughter one day, I don't want her to have an experience where she doesn't come forward looking for help and support because she's overwhelmed with shame. I want her to feel confident enough and brave enough to ask for help. And I want her to know it's okay to mess up. We all have, and we all will, again. So sorry for getting a little sappy there, Daddy Gang. But I just know how many women are tuning in every week to this. And I love to have fun, and I love to talk about the Juicy Goss. But I feel... I I don't know. I just feel like we can get stuck if we don't start to have these conversations. And I don't want any woman listening to this to, next time you feel uncomfortable. I'm not saying that you're going to get up and leave. I'm actually saying that's part of the problem. We're so trained and conditioned to make men feel comfortable that you're probably going to stay. That's the reality. But the first step is at least when you do get home, if you are someone that wasn't able to immediately leave, tell your fucking friend or your mom or someone you're close with or a coworker.

It just will make it easier to start fucking speaking up for yourself. And so I look at Younger Alex and I don't cry about it anymore, but I'm so grateful that I'm able to now look at that experience, whether I still had fucking HPV to this day or not. I'm so fucking proud that I was able to turn that situation and stop fucking blaming myself for something that everyone fucking does. If you have an STD and you are sitting at home and you're upset right now, it's like, oh, you're so irresponsible. Shut the fuck up. Every single person that's fucking on this planet, how many people are not using condoms? And yet again, I said the condom always fucking breaks, right? So something somewhere, you're just getting the shit end of the fucking luck, right? And so don't be hard on yourself. You're this dirty, grimy human being. Someone may have been having 10 times more sex than you, and they just happen to not come across someone with an STD. It's a fucking chance game, and don't be hard on yourself. And I love you, Daddy Gang. And happy birthday to all my Leos.

I wonder if you have the same birthday as me. Like, DM me, love you. And I'm going to be in the Hamptons this weekend celebrating my birthday, which I'm very excited about. And it's really an unwell event that we're throwing. And then I'm just celebrating my birthday while I'm there. And I'm excited. I'm going to have a couple surprise friends that maybe you'll see on social media. Wink, wink, that you love. They'll be there. And yeah, a new decade of my life is officially starting. So I got a lot of work to do. Okay, Daddy Gang. I love you. I will see you fuckers next Wednesday. Goodbye.